


incremental

by isloremipsumafterall



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isloremipsumafterall/pseuds/isloremipsumafterall
Summary: Five times Porthos and Constance almost kissed + the one time they did





	

**One**

“Hold still,” Constance snapped, her anger sneaking out, a false bravado so her hands wouldn’t shake as she stitched the wound on Porthos leg up. “Athos always did say you were better unconscious for this.”

But Athos, Aramis, and d’Artagnan weren’t around to help her. It was just her and Porthos who had gotten separated from the group in the ensuing battle and ended up farther out than expected. The rest of them were problem looking for them as they spoke but until then Constance had to do the best she could.

“He does enjoy knocking me out.” Porthos said, voice deeper than usual to try to hide the pain but it did no good.

“At this point I think I would to,” Constance smiled up at him to assure him she was just joking and thankfully finished the final stitch. “There, that ought to hold if you just stop moving around.” She pushed him a little to get him to lie down but with his strength gone he didn’t offer much resistance and she ended up falling over on him. “I’m sorry,” Constance struggled to get up, trying to be careful of Porthos leg.

At the same time he raised his head, about to tell her it was fine no doubt – a lie she would hardly believe – but ended up just a hairsbreadth away from her lips, the words dying in his throat.

His eyes were a deep brown, she couldn’t help but notice, with laughter lines already carved into his face next to them.

“My thanks.” Porthos managed to get out, the depth in his voice having nothing to do with pain this time.

“You owe me one.” Constance replied and was about to lean even more, so close to a kiss when their names being called startled her back to an awareness of their surroundings. “We’re over here.” She yelled out to the other Musketeers and stood up, offering a hand to Porthos and huffing with exertion as she pulled him up.

“I’ll try to repay the favour.” Porthos said as he righted himself by leaning against her. Time would tell if he could get the chance.

 

**Two**

The last time Porthos had dealt with sickness was his second year of a being a Musketeer, he’d come down with the flu that was hitting Paris hard. Since then he prided himself in hardly ever being sick when the virus came back to Paris every year.

Unfortunately this time Constance didn’t have his immunity and lay in bed with a high fever, mumbling words that made no sense and kicking off her blankets. They’d each said they would help but as they were called away Porthos had been the one to agree to stay behind with Constance, surprising everyone including himself.

“Wouldn’t be right to leave a friend behind,” He had said when questioned and genuinely meant that though the situation wasn’t dangerous per say.

Now he struggled trying to remember how things felt for him when he was ill and how best to help Constance.

“You’ll be all right,” He told her, resting a cloth soaked in water on her forehead.

She looked up at him with miserable eyes, every breath rattling around in her chest.

He was so thankful the day the fever broke and Constance looked herself.

“Thank you.” She said quietly as Porthos began to pack up to leave and give her time to herself again. She reached out to grab his shirt and help him at the same time Porthos did and they jerked their heads up, lips very nearly touching. For a moment Porthos wished they had.

Constance’s flush could be blamed on whatever was left of her illness though and it wasn’t the right to reach out and kiss her if that was the cause. Porthos shoved the rest of his things in his bag and wished a good rest of the recovery, hurrying out the door.

 

**Three**

 “I am not their wake up call,” Constance muttered as she stormed up the steps of the garrison, fully intent on yelling at the Musketeers who were supposed to have met her at the palace at dawn but hadn’t arrived.

She ended up at Porthos’ door first and walked in when he didn’t answer. He was passed out on the bed, snoring lightly and Constance snorted in amusement.

It was tempting to drench him with water as retribution for being late but instead she walked over and shook his shoulder, calling his name.

Porthos blinked blearily as he woke up, yawning and making his jaw crack, once he caught sight of her hovering over him however he smiled sleepily at her. “Constance,” Porthos said, his voice rough with sleep still and Constance realized this was how he would sound straight in the mornings, if he rolled over in bed and – she stopped the thoughts before they went away and fixed him with a glare.

Porthos either didn’t notice or ignored it, most likely the later given how he always laughed when she glared, and sat up. Constance didn’t step backwards in time however and her heart hammered in her ears when Porthos very nearly kissed her from that action.

“I...should go get the others.” She said and fled the room, her heart still beating heavily.

Next time she would go with the water to avoid such situations.

 

**Four**

Porthos could tell he still stood out in the court, even surrounded by as many people as he was. Part of it was his height and general aura around himself that made several ladies eye him in wonder, he winked at them as he made his way towards where Constance stood beside the Queen.

“I see you made it,” Constance said hotly, not looking him in the eye. To an outsider it might seem she was jealous of what he had just done but Porthos shrugged it off.

“Ah finally the Musketeers arrive, Constance has been by my side all night and deserves a break,” The Queen stated as Porthos bowed to her, offering them both a soft smile, “I leave her with you.”

Constance opened her mouth to contest to that but Anne was already gliding across the room, every inch of her royalty. She sighed and gestured to the window, “I could use some air.”

Porthos nodded his agreement and followed her to the balcony. “Anything of note tonight?” It was an innocent enough question to the passerby but he was really asking if there was anything that they should be aware of to watch over.

“Things have been quiet, which is nice. We could use more nights like these.” Constance looked over at him, “Perhaps less crowded however.”

Her hair was done up extravagantly, not a curl out of place, it was beautiful but Porthos missed the way her hair spilled over her shoulders, his fingers itched to pull it out of the position it was in but he steadied his hand by resting it on top the sword handle at his side. “Money could be used for the people,” He grunted, somewhat bitter how royalty lived it up in the palace as people like him had scrounged just to survive in the lower streets.

Constance rested her hand on his arm, meeting his gaze with understanding, “I’ll talk to her Majesty.” Constance said and unlike empty promises he’d heard before he knew she meant it.

Standing as they were he had ducked his head to hear her and with the shoes she had on the night it gave her more height. Once more he thought how they might look to the people in the crowd, who could see them as lovers in the moonlight and the thought made him inch slightly closer.

Constance didn’t stop him, her blue eyes on his and her mouth fell open but not in protest.

They fell apart however when Aramis crashed in to them after being slapped by one of the ladies.

 

**Five**

Her arms burned with exhaustion but Constance held on to her sword, lifting it above her head to block the next attack from the Englishman.

By her side Porthos was ducking a swinging sword and returning a fist to his attackers stomach, making the man fall over in a gasp.

Constance kicked her attackers’ shins and pulled her sword away to slam the handle into his face, causing him to crumple to the ground.

The fight seemed never ending in the streets of Paris, like it was days before it stopped instead of the mere hours but they were victorious.

“Constance.” Porthos said, above her from where she had collapsed on a bench, breathing heavily. He crouched down to take a look at her.

“I’m fine, Porthos, go help the others.” She pushed damp hair out of her eyes and swallowed, her muscles beginning to shake now that the adrenaline had worn off and she had no idea if she would stand again.

He frowned at her and ignored her words, reaching over to hoist her to her feet and help her stagger back home.

“I hate you,” She muttered without heat and it only made Porthos laugh as it always did.

They reached her house without anymore issues and she forced herself to lean against the doorway. “I’ll be fine,” She tried telling him again, catching his eyes, “You should go.” He had to do his duty and she knew it, smiling at him to show that.

Porthos opened his mouth to argue but shook his head and grinned back sheepishly, any argument he might have had she’d counter easily.

“Constance,” He began and leaned down, making her wish she had the strength to lean up and close the space between them, Porthos swallowed hard and pulled back. “Take care.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead instead, leaving her standing there and wishing for more.

 

**\+ One**

They’d arrived back in Paris late at night, just the two of them on the mission from the Queen; or at least Porthos was the Musketeer she’d chosen to take with her. They made their way to Constance’s house where Porthos was about to say his goodbyes when Constance stopped him.

She pressed her hand against his mouth before he could say a word and looked up at him, “Stay tonight.” She said softly, letting the offer fall between and leaving it in Porthos’ hands.

In answer he tugged her hand away from his mouth and leaned down to kiss her as he had wanted to for a while now, pulling her closer as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Stay forever.” Constance said so quietly he almost didn’t hear her when she stepped back.

“Could do that.” He replied and grinned, pushing curls away from her face to cup her cheek as he kissed her again.

They shut the door behind them and opened a whole new one instead.


End file.
